


The Debt

by ilcuoreardendo



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charley's just lost everything, again. Jerry's there to collect what's left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“Jesus, kid.” Jerry’s voice trembled with a mix of laughter, disbelief and maybe a little pity. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Debt

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Должок](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5536163) by [P20Bh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/P20Bh/pseuds/P20Bh)



> Originally written and posted at my [Tumblr](http://ilcuoreardendo-fic.tumblr.com/).

 

* * *

 

Jerry found him in an alley, tucked between the wall and an overflowing dumpster, sleeping beneath a dryer exhaust vent that blew warm, mountain-spring scented air but did little to keep the stench of rotting garbage at bay.

“Jesus, kid.” Jerry’s voice trembled with a mix of laughter, disbelief and maybe a little pity.   
  
For one sliver of a moment Charley was almost glad to see the familiar, angular face peering down at him, shining like ivory in the streetlight.

Five nights ago, everything Charley owned had been blown to bits. Again. But this time, by his own hand. It had been the only way to get rid of the group of vampires who’d picked up his trail a week before. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much time to plot before his apartment went up in rush of flames and exploding glass.

Charley had no cash, no ID, no way to access his miniscule savings. He hadn’t eaten in two, maybe three, days. He stank of sweat and blood and other people’s garbage. His body ached all over.   
  
And he was fucking tired. Tired of running. Of looking over his shoulder. Of never staying in one place longer than six months at a stretch.

Four years he’d been running.

Maybe it would all end now….

“To think, you traded everything I offered…for this. It doesn’t even rate as a shithole, Charley.” Jerry shook his head, reached out and plucked him from the makeshift bedding.

Charley didn’t resist, didn’t protest.  
  
  
It may have been hours later that they pulled up to a split-level ranch house, deep in the heart of one of the city’s suburbs.   
  
Charley was half asleep in the passenger seat of the truck, lulled by the heat seeping from the vents, his pleasantly full stomach. (When Jerry had stopped at a drive-thru and asked what he’d wanted, Charley had stared at the man with his mouth hanging open until Jerry grinned and ordered. Just what kind of twilight zone he’d entered into, Charley didn’t know.)

He pried his eyes open as they engine cut off, blinked wearily as Jerry hauled him out of the truck, pushed him through the front door of the house and up the stairs.   
  
 _This is it_ , Charley thought, as Jerry pulled him into the master bedroom, locked the door behind them; the key disappeared somewhere on his person.  _This is when he’ll kill me_.

Jerry came for him.

Charley, tensed for the pain, the strike of teeth against his skin and blinked when all he felt were fingers brushing his chest.   
  
Jerry popped the buttons off his shirt—they pelted the hardwood floor like rain drops—and stripped it from him. His pants and underwear followed, as quickly as if they’d been magicked off his body.  
  
“Bathroom,” was the only thing the vampire said when Charley gawked at him, face flushing.   
  
A cool hand on his back propelled him through the door. As Jerry started the tub filling, Charley calculated the possibility of making it down the stairs and out the door; he got caught on the fact that even if he made it that far, he had no vehicle and Jerry’s truck keys were still somewhere on Jerry and then there was his lack of clothing—

Charley’s train of thought derailed as he was unceremoniously lifted and dropped in the bathtub. The water, already up to his hips, burned pleasantly against his chilled body; the bubbles made him sneeze. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What’s it look like, guy?” Jerry asked, taking a sponge to Charley’s arm. “You smell like a sewer rat.”

“Is this a new thing? Cleaning your victims before you kill them?”  
  
“Kill you? Guy,” Jerry clicked his tongue against his teeth, drew the sponge up over Charley’s shoulder, down his chest. “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

“Then—“

“No. Killing you…that’s too quick.” The sponge dropped to his waist, slithered over his thigh. “You  _owe_  me. For everything that you took.” The sponge slid back up his other thigh, a trace of nail along with it. “For everything you destroyed.” The sponge skated under his balls, along the soft skin of his cock, up over his pubic hair. The nail that had traced his thigh shallowly sliced the flesh of his lower belly; the surrounding bubbles turned pink. “You’re going to pay, little boy.”

Charley hissed, slumped back against the tiled wall.   
  
“Tonight. And every night from here on. Until I decide the price has been met. And then,” Jerry flashed a fanged grin. “I might kill you. And I’ll probably bring you back.”


End file.
